


First Day

by secooper87



Series: The Child of Balime [17]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secooper87/pseuds/secooper87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it's your first day as an intern at Torchwood Cardiff, anything can happen.  Even this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

So.

An internship at Torchwood. Top secret organization. All that.

Problem was… what was Alison supposed to tell her parents, when they asked her about her summer job?

"Just say you're working for… 'special ops'," Gwen told Alison. "That works for me."

Tosh had given a half-shrug. "I tell people I do contract work for the government."

Ianto had shot her a small grin. "I just lie. Make something up."

Owen? "It's none of their damn business!"

And Jack, far as Alison could see, just flirted with the people asking him until they quit with the pestering and got down to the snogging.

Lots of options.

But Alison's parents wouldn't care about the police, the 'government job' might be an issue after the Harold Saxon debacle, they'd see through any lie she told them, and… as for the snog…

Right.

Time for a different tactic, then.

"But what does this 'Torchwood' of yours actually _do_?" Mum asked her for only about the 40,000th time.

Alison clasped her hands on the dining room table. Looked straight into her parents' eyes. Completely straight-faced. And told them:

"Torchwood's outside the government, beyond the police. And what they do, basically, is find and chase down aliens. Which is what I've decided I want my career to be, after I'm done at uni. A career of chasing off aliens and protecting Great Britain from their threat."

For a few seconds, her parents said nothing. Just stared at her.

"Well, good for you!" Dad shouted, slamming his fist down on the table, to make a point. "Those good-for-nothing aliens. 'Bout time they got what they deserved!"

Mum seemed a little perplexed. "I thought you were a liberal."

"Liberal nothing, Kirsten!" Dad cut in. "The point is, I've had it up to here with all these aliens rushing in and taking people's jobs. This is Britain, not Czechoslovakia!"

Alison nodded, slowly. "Right. Aliens…"

"And then there are the Americans!" Dad continued. "Don't get me started on the Americans. You've had too much exposure already, with that Summers family. All crass and brutish and loud, without the first idea how to…"

Which was right around the time that Alison tuned Dad out.

Better he think Seo was the normal kind of alien.

* * *

"…worker migration due to the European Union," Alison explained to Gwen, on the first day of her internship, as they entered the Torchwood Hub, "although, actually, it also has a lot to do with the fall of the Iron Curtain, which makes this immigration issue really just the fault of all those bloody Americans, if you ask Dad, because they keep…"

"Sorry, what does this have to do with Torchwood, again?" asked Gwen.

Alison shrugged. "No idea. But I'm pretty sure that alien that crashed into Big Ben is actually George Washington's fault." She glanced at the rest of the team, who were all rushing around, busy as could be, worried expressions on their faces. "What's going on?"

"Missing people, around Cardiff," said Gwen. "For the last week. All kidnapped by the same van, same two thugs, every time."

"Doesn't seem very extra terrestrial," Alison said.

"Thing is, every time someone goes missing," said Gwen, "exactly one hour later, there's a massive rift spike, and all the lights across the city flicker." She shrugged. "And the people never turn up, again."

There.

That was more like it.

"So it's a supernatural mystery," said Alison. "Brilliant. Just call me Nancy Drew, and I'll…!"

"Make the tea," said Owen, thrusting a tea cup into her face, clipboard tucked under his arm. He grinned. "Welcome to Torchwood, intern."

* * *

"Jack," Tosh called, her eyes fixed on the computer. "I… think we might have a problem."

The entirety of team Torchwood raced over. Leaned over, to squint at Tosh's computer screen.

"Couldn't you hack into their databases, with that wireless gizmo we hooked up to the van?" asked Ianto.

"Course I did," Tosh said, typing at the keyboard. "And broke the encryption codes and everything. That's not the problem." She typed a few more things, and then hit the enter key. "Problem is… when I tried to access the files on their 'Project Savior'… I got this."

Everyone leaned down, and read the message on the screen.

 _Nice try, Toshiko Sato_.

"They… know your name," said Gwen.

"They must… have…" Tosh began, but stopped. As more words appeared on the screen.

_We know all of you, Gwen Cooper._

"Okay, that's a little creepy," Jack muttered, crossing his arms.

"Are they hacking the Torchwood security cameras?" Ianto proposed.

Tosh tried fiddling around with the Torchwood mainframe. Shook her head. "Not that I can see."

Then, popping up onto the screen, in its own little black box:

_We know you._

_Jack Harkness. Gwen Cooper. Ianto Jones. Toshiko Sato. Owen Harper. You are Torchwood, and you can't stop us. What we do will happen, has happened, must happen. No end._

For a few moments, silence reigned across the Hub.

"What… is that supposed to mean?" asked Gwen.

Jack shook his head. He had no idea.

"All right," said Alison, charging into the Hub, her arms laid down with tea and coffee items. "Two teas, three coffees… and, actually, yes, I would like a tip, thank you very much for offering."

Alison paused. As she noticed everyone in the Torchwood team looking between the computer screen, and her. Their jaws dropping.

"Course, if you're willing to let me fight aliens or do something interesting, that might work even better," said Alison.

They still didn't stop staring.

Alison frowned, came over behind them, and peaked at the computer. The display was covered with rapidly scrolling symbols and numbers and letters that meant nothing. As if the computer were malfunctioning, entirely.

"Need some help with your computer?" Alison offered.

The computer screen snapped off. Going completely blank.

Then, printed on the screen: "Who are you?"

And, in an instant, the desktop returned, and the computer was restored to normal. As if nothing odd had ever happened.

"They don't know Alison," said Gwen. "They know all the rest of us. But not Alison."

Alison crossed her arms. Gave everyone there a pointed look. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?"

* * *

Well.

This was more like it.

Gwen had protested, of course. Had said it was Alison's first day, and they shouldn't send her into the middle of danger right away — she barely knew the ropes, yet. Adding, when the rest of the team didn't seem to mind, that if anything happened to Alison, Buffy would decapitate them.

But… well… what did Alison care?

It was about time she actually did something around here!

Alison dropped to the ground, on the other side of the fence surrounding the building complex. Glanced around, fearing guard dogs or armed men or anything. But… nope. Nothing.

Suspiciously quiet.

She readjusted the mini-cam attached to her shirt, and rushed forwards. Time to do what she always did. Infiltrate, investigate, work out what was going on, and…

Well, she figured Torchwood probably wouldn't let her blow it up. Which was also standard Seo procedure.

But here's to trying!

* * *

"No, that's just the trouble," said Dr. Pauline Hinkle, in the main area of the complex. "I've been trying to dig around for her, but… the records keep shutting me out." She studied the security footage of the girl breaking into their complex. "Whoever she is… she must have very powerful friends."

"We can trace the camera signal she's emitting," said Felix Maport, typing away at a computer. He showed the displays to the others. "Definitely Torchwood."

"Do we stop her, then?" asked Pauline.

All eyes turned to Professor Norm Feldman, standing in the center of the room. Stroking his beard, eyes fixed on the swirling vortex of rift energy just in front of him, mouth a thin line.

"Sir?" asked Felix, a little hesitantly.

Professor Feldman gave a small smile. Pointed at the vortex swirling just in front of him, his eyes shifting to the footage of the girl breaking into their complex.

"Fascinating," said Professor Feldman. "You see? A reaction. A response, from the rift itself, to her mere presence."

They could see.

How the rift seemed to grow just that much brighter, as the girl approached. Fluctuated, spun round and round and round with greater intensity.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Professor Feldman. "She's going to be our next subject." He gave a grin. "Bring her in."

* * *

Torchwood watched, from the van, as Alison was surrounded, and captured.

"Sound and camera still registering," Tosh said. She looked at the others. "We can send in a rescue party."

"…course I'm not with Torchwood!" Alison was telling the guards, as she was led into the complex. She sounded completely sure of herself, confident. "It's just my friend and I, see. We've got this hobby. It's called poking our noses into things we really shouldn't. Good fun."

Jack gestured at Owen and Gwen, and they all jumped out of the van, pulling out guns and weapons. They all looked at one another, then raced forwards, guns drawn.

Jack was the first one to find out the fence had been electrified.

As he screamed, and then collapsed onto the ground, dead.

* * *

"Very interesting," said Professor Feldman, as the girl stepped into the room. The vortex of rift energy pulsed, as the girl drew nearer. Almost seemed to reach out, with eagerness.

But dared not cross the threshold of their carefully assembled machine.

The girl stopped. Staring at the machine.

Then burst out laughing.

"Oh, you are kidding me!" she said. She pointed at the contraption. "What's that? A time machine?"

Dr. Pauline took off her glasses, staring at the girl in shock. "You… understand the theory?"

"Uh, no," said the girl. "But you're channeling energy from a time rift inside a super-sized model of a DeLorean." She shrugged. "What else would it be?"

Professor Feldman continued to stare at the energy inside the metallic mesh of the car frame. Watched as the energies of the rift reacted with the complex machinery he'd built inside.

Then snapped his head over to Dr. Pauline. "Got that carrier signal, yet?"

Dr. Pauline spun around, and began typing at the computer. "Carrier signal online."

"Carrier…?" the girl began, a little uneasily.

"Phase displacement 81%," said Felix, flipping switches and checking settings. "Rift power at 95%."

"Response from the receiver is coming through," said Dr. Pauline.

The girl tried to run, but their goons caught her easily, and dragged her back.

Professor Feldman grinning at her, his eyes glistening.

The rift energy inside the DeLorean seemed to explode, flooding across every single metallic surface of the contraption, making it crackle and hum with power. The machine whirred into full animation, and the girl shrieked, as the goons dragged her closer.

"Power at 100%," said Felix.

"Response acknowledged," said Dr. Pauline. "Carrier signal integrated."

"Put her in," Professor Feldman commanded the goons.

The girl tried to break free, as the goons threw her into the machine. "You can't…!" she screamed, stumbling.

And then… the room shook, the entire complex vibrating violently.

And the girl disappeared.

"Full phase shift initiated," said Felix, as the shaking died down. He leaned back in his chair, turned to Professor Feldman.

Professor Feldman gave Felix a pointed stare, as the rift energy powered down, and the machine went back to standby. "So?" he asked. "Did it work?"

* * *

Torchwood heard every word until the moment Alison had been thrown into the machine. At which point they'd watched, open-mouthed, as the entire complex faded from their sight. Fence, buildings, and everything. All disappearing the moment that machine had activated.

The complex had disappeared.

And so had Alison.

"We… we lost her," said Ianto.

"On her first bloody day!" snapped Owen, throwing his earpiece to the ground. "That's got to be a record. Even for us."

Jack just couldn't believe his eyes. Couldn't believe his ears.

Gone.

Alison was… just… gone.

"She knows a time traveler, though, right?" said Gwen. "Maybe… this isn't so bad. If Seo helps her, she can get back."

"If that DeLorean time machine actually works," said Jack. After all, most often, primitive time travel experiments led to nothing but tragedy. It was likely Alison hadn't gone back in time at all. Was just…

Dead.

The door to the Torchwood Van opened, and Tosh called out: "Jack! I found Alison."

Everyone looked at one another. Then sprinted for the Torchwood van. Clustering around Tosh, trying to see what she'd found.

But they didn't see CCTV footage.

Just a document.

"A police note, from an archived historical record," said Tosh. "Mentioning a girl looking almost exactly like Alison wandering about London, seeming suspicious, and carrying around what she described as an 'iPhone'." She paused. Cringed. "Who was then… taken out of police custody. Picked up."

"By whom?" asked Ianto.


	2. Chapter 2

Alison screamed, as she was dragged into a tunnel of swirling gold light. As she felt the energies ripping across and through her. As she felt herself tugged and pulled, heard some deep rumbling off in the distance.

And then…

Someone caught her. Hands wrapped round her, protecting her as she fell. Hands Alison couldn't see. The energies stopped burning. The rumbling grew louder and louder, flooding Alison's ears. But… somehow… she knew she was safe.

Couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Didn't know what was happening.

Just felt herself falling…

Falling…

Until…

Alison stumbled. Caught herself. Then looked around herself, a bit… confused.

Outside. She was standing outside. Whatever tunnel or rift opening spot she'd fallen through was gone forever. No sign it'd ever existed. No invisible people holding onto her. Not even any real sign she'd traveled through time. She was just… standing outside, on a sunny day, in the middle of a cluster of buildings. Different place, sure, but… well… people were still wearing jeans and tee shirts, buildings still looked pretty normal, and, at a glance, everything still appeared essentially…

Alison spun around, as the air opened up, beside her.

And a body flew out.

The body was charred. Mangled and burned, its face in a silent scream. The next victim of Professor Feldman's experiments… and _this_ was the result.

Alison stumbled back, her mouth open, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

(She thought she was going to be sick.)

No. Pull yourself together, Alison. This is what Torchwood deals with. She shoved all her fears and worries and discomforts to the back of her mind, and took out her iPhone. Selected Jack's number, and rang him.

Nothing.

She looked down at the phone.

No reception. No signal.

"So I really _did_ travel through time," she muttered.

A group of army men burst out of nowhere, all armed and looking as if they'd been ready and waiting for her to turn up, here.

Those scientists with the DeLorean — they'd said something about a carrier signal and anticipating a response. Like they were trying to check in with people, back here, to make sure…

Alison's eyes went wide.

As she turned, and ran for her life.

* * *

"Definitely alive, sir," said Sergeant Benton. "First one we've seen like it. No burns. No disfiguration. Not a scratch on her."

The white-haired gentleman in the velvet opera cape looked up from the gadget he'd been tinkering with. Eyebrows raised.

"But that's not possible," he muttered.

Brigadier Lethbridge-Stuart absorbed this. "Any idea where she's from, or why she's here?" he asked.

"Sorry, sir," Benton said, a little embarrassed. "But she ran off before we could ask any questions. We tried to follow, but… I'm afraid she managed to give us the slip."

"Ran off?" the Brigadier snapped.

"Yes, well, of course she ran off, Brigadier!" the older gentleman replied, tweaking the little gizmo, again. "She's been ripped out of her normal life, shoved through a lethal energy field with no shielding whatsoever — and the first thing she sees, when she emerges, is an army platoon pointing guns at her. What did you think she was going to do?"

The Brigadier had to concede the point.

The elderly gentleman nodded, in approval, at the device. "Energy field residue tracker." He stood up, and marched to the door of the lab. "I'll find her," he said. Waving off Benton, who tried to follow. "And I'll have none of your army guns along, when I do."

Slammed the door in their faces.

* * *

"No, Jack says that if Alison's at UNIT, Seo can't pick her up," said Tosh. "Something about crossing… timelines…" She shook her head. "I don't really understand it."

"So it's up to us, then," said Gwen. She hit her head against the palm of her hand. "Fantastic."

"Hey, we can get Alison back from the 70's!" said Owen, slamming down his Torchwood gear onto the ground. "We got Tosh and Jack back from 1941, right?"

"Admittedly, we did almost end the world doing it," Ianto muttered.

Jack stormed into the Hub. His eyes focused.

"All right," he announced. "Tosh. Hack into those UNIT files, 1971, find out what's going on there. Gwen, Owen. Figure out how that building disappeared, what it has to do with the rift, and where it's wound up, this time. Ianto — look into every scientist that's made any headway on time travel research, who happens to also be a big fan of 'Back to the Future'."

"And you?" asked Gwen.

Jack turned, headed into his office. "Working out a way to get Alison back here safely."

* * *

"London," said Alison, looking about herself. She frowned. "I'm… in London?" Shook her head. "How did the _Cardiff_ Rift take me to _London_?"

But it was certainly London.

A more computer-free, non-digital version of London, but still London.

When was she?

In the past, certainly. Beyond that, Alison wasn't exactly sure. She'd expected eras of the past to be fairly obvious at first glance: see lots of mini-skirts, tie-dye, 'flower power' and Beatles hair cuts? Chances are, you're in the sixties. See lots of spandex and leg warmers and hockey hair? 80's it is!

Problem was… the past didn't really seem like that.

Most people just looked like… people.

"Can I help you, Miss?" said a policeman, coming up to Alison.

She spun around, a little flustered. Stumbled back. "No," she insisted. "No, I'm just a bit lost, trying to work out…" She glanced down at the smart phone in her hand, automatically, to check time and date.

Then remembered she was in the past.

And that wouldn't work.

"Do you know the date?" Alison asked him.

"The fourteenth," said the policeman. He was eyeing the smart phone, suspiciously. "What, exactly, is that, Miss?"

Alison blinked. Then realized… she was a suspicious-looking person, wandering around London, looking nervous, with a Torchwood-issued gun by her side, carrying an unknown electric device.

Just the kind of person you'd expect to be a terrorist about to plant some bomb.

"It's my iPhone," said Alison. Then, with a grimace, "I mean, my mobile. My… phone."

The policeman looked like he didn't believe her. Seemed terribly suspicious of her, more so than before. "Miss," he said. "I think you should come into the station and answer a few questions."

"On the contrary, Constable," came another voice, from just behind Alison. "I don't think you'd be able to understand her answers even if she gave them."

Alison turned, to discover an older-looking gentleman, curly gray hair, dressed in a green suit and a funny-looking opera cape, stepping out of an old-fashioned yellow car. He studied Alison with growing interest, as he advanced towards her.

"Not a scratch or burn on you," he muttered. "Remarkable."

"Sir, I think—" the Constable began, but the man cut in, putting an arm around Alison's shoulders.

"Listen, Constable, it's perfectly simple. Miss…" He turned to Alison. "Sorry, what's your name?"

"Alison Korjensky?" Alison whispered.

"Miss Korjensky, here, is currently under the protection of UNIT," the man said, in a tone of voice that dared any to argue with him. "And…"

He stopped.

Turned back to Alison, a frown on his face. "Alison Korjensky," he mused. "Any relation to…?" He stopped himself, shook his head. "No, never mind. Early 21st century — he wouldn't have even been born yet." He turned back to the Constable. "At any rate. If you have any further questions, you can contact the Brigadier."

Then he turned, and led Alison into his car.

Alison felt her head spinning.

UNIT?

"But… but I thought… UNIT were the good guys," Alison insisted. "Why are you sending a carrier signal to a group of kidnappers if…?"

"A carrier signal?" said the man beside her. "Who said anything about a carrier signal?"

"The people who sent me here," said Alison. "Via DeLorean."

The man glanced over at her, thoughtfully, analyzing her. "Interesting."

Then jerked his little car into traffic, zipping through the streets so quickly and with so many swerves and curves that Alison had to cling onto the passenger seat for dear life.

"This all started about a day ago, see," the man explained to her. "Bodies appearing out of nowhere, on UNIT headquarters. Burned beyond recognition." Another swerve of the car. "Then you came along. Not a mark on you, uninjured. And carrying an iPhone. 2013?"

"What?" asked Alison, over the honk of nearby traffic.

"Where you're from," the man guessed. "Must be early 21st century. Before 2024 — iPhones looked a bit different by then."

"I… I…" Alison winced as they just barely managed to avoid hitting the side of a building. "Could you slow down? You drive like my best friend's mum!"

"Lovely chap, Steve Jobs," the man continued, ignoring her. "I met him, once, you know. In a former life. Zoe was rather starstruck the entire time, I confess."

The car skidded to a stop, in front of the building complex that Alison had fled from, a short time ago. The man extracting a number of hastily assembled gadgets out of his pockets — pockets way too small to fit the devices he was storing inside of them.

Alison stared at him.

Familiar.

All… so terribly… familiar…

The pockets, the way he rambled in technobabble, the way he strode around like he knew precisely what he was doing, the driving and the outtalking-policemen and… just… something indefinable about him…

"Who are you?" asked Alison.

The man looked up at her. Then seemed to realize he'd never actually said. "Oh, forgive me," he said. Extended out a hand to shake. "I'm the Doctor."

Alison's eyes went wide.

As it all made sense.


	3. Chapter 3

Tosh, back at Torchwood, discovered that hacking into the files concerning Alison in the 70's was far more difficult than one would imagine.

Tosh could find the right files. The right series of reports. But whenever she tried to access them, the UNIT systems immediately identified her as a member of Torchwood, and locked her out. Maximum security. Some… 'Bad Wolf' firewall.

It took her almost two hours to crack even a tiny fraction of it.

By then, Owen and Gwen had already come to a theory about the way the scientists had gotten the building to move.

"We think they're hiding their complex using… a tiny section of the rift," said Gwen. "Hence the barrier we ran into, when we tried to go after Alison."

"When they trigger the DeLorean," Owen continued, "they excite the rift. Their subject moves through time, while their complex moves through space. Easy as that."

Jack crossed his arms. Supposed it could make sense, if Alison had turned up in Cardiff, not realized what had happened, run off before she encountered that version of Torchwood, and wound up in London. Where, of course, she'd be picked up by the only person around who happened to know what an 'iPhone' actually was.

Problem was… Jack had the sneaking suspicion that Alison had never been taken to Cardiff in the first place. That the Cardiff Rift had taken her straight to London.

Which was impossible.

Except…

There was one person Jack knew who'd used the rift to move people through space as well as time. Just one. But… there was no way _she_ could be involved.

Right?

"So where's the complex, now?" Jack asked.

Gwen and Owen looked at one another. They clearly hadn't gotten that far, yet.

Jack nodded. Turned to Yan.

"Professor Feldman," said Ianto, plunking down a big series of papers and files in front of Jack. "Had some odd theories about time, once made a bet with Steven Hawking that he could build a fully-functional time machine. He'd been dabbling for about ten years, but… last year… something odd happened."

"What odd?" asked Jack.

"Reports say he caught his wife cheating on him, moved away, and was never heard from again," said Ianto.

Owen snickered. "What's so odd about that?"

"He's never had a wife," said Ianto.

Tosh pounded the keyboard in triumph, as the first bit of information flooded the screen. "I got it!" she cried out. "Report from UNIT, 1971!"

One small individual report, out of a whole bunch that Tosh should have been able to hack easily. But at least it was something. Somewhere to start from.

She scrolled through it, skimming the text as the others ran over to her, leaning down and peering over her shoulder.

The report spoke of bodies appearing out of nowhere. Burned beyond recognition. Of one young lady coming through unscathed, apparently from the early 21st century, claiming she'd been part of an experiment in time travel. In the report, Alison had given a full and complete description of everything that she'd seen in the complex.

Jack pointed to the screen. "Now, that's interesting."

Tosh's eyes fell down to where he was pointing. At the very bottom of the report.

"Our scientific advisor asserts," Tosh read, "that time travel, in the way Miss Korjensky described, would be impossible."

* * *

"Impossible?" Alison cried. She spread her arms. "I'm here, aren't I? How'd I get here, if it's impossible?!"

"I have no idea, child," the Doctor snapped. "If you ask me, the entire thing is preposterous!"

The Brigadier considered. "Well, much as I hate to contradict you, Doctor, the facts remain. Miss Korjensky is here. And judging by the technology she has on-hand, I'd say it's fairly clear she's from the future."

The Doctor leaned over the Brigadier's desk. "Listen to me, Brigadier," he said. "Any device using the Cardiff Rift would be impossible to control. Much less to use as an accurate time machine." He swept out with his hand, to illustrate the point. "Those bodies should be appearing scattered at random, spatially, not all delivered to one particular spot on the UNIT base — and should be spread out over decades, instead of the past 24 hours!"

"And should all be in Cardiff," muttered Alison.

"And, as she says, should be in Cardiff," the Doctor agreed. "Whatever these scientists constructed, it's certainly not a time machine."

"Then how do you explain it, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.

The Doctor stepped back. His voice falling a little. "I… don't know," he admitted. He took a seat in front of the Brigadier. "But I'm beginning to believe there's more to this than we suspected."

"Like what?" said the Brigadier.

The Doctor turned on Alison. "You know, Miss Korjensky," he observed, "for someone who's just traveled forty years into her own past, you seem remarkably unfazed."

Alison blinked at him. "Sorry?" Shook her head. "Did you _see_ me when I first turned up here?"

"In fact," the Doctor continued, "you seem perfectly fine with the entire concept of time travel. You don't doubt that it's possible. You don't doubt that this really is the 1970's. And you certainly don't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that… you're trapped here."

"I'm not trapped," said Alison, before she could stop herself.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you?"

"Well… well… you're the one with the time machine!" Alison snapped back. "You tell me."

"And how did you know I had a time machine?" the Doctor continued.

Alison opened her mouth to answer. Then realized… she'd just put her foot in it.

"Well," said the Doctor. "I suppose that explains how and why she's here, the only one unscathed."

The Brigadier looked between Alison and the Doctor. "I don't understand," he admitted.

"She was sent, Brigadier," said the Doctor. "And not by her 'Professor Feldman'. She was purposely sent here by some higher power. The only power out there who could manipulate something like a space-time rift."

Alison's mind spun. "The… Key?"

"The Time Lords, Miss Korjensky!" the Doctor snapped, banging his fist down on the Brigadier's desk. "Should have seen it right away. Typical Celestial Intervention Agency!"

"Time Lords?" said Alison. She shook her head. "What are you on about? There aren't any Time Lords, anymore. I remember."

Hard to forget, when there were only two in existence, and the other had been shot while attempting to take over the world.

"Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they aren't there!" shouted the Doctor. He jumped to his feet. "Now, if you don't mind staying out of business that doesn't concern you, I think it's time I got on with the real work!"

"Business that doesn't…?" Alison's jaw dropped. Hands bunching into fists, as she advanced on him. "Excuse me! This is _my_ case! _My_ investigation!"

"And I suppose you're a fully qualified scientist," said the Doctor, "who knows all the ins and outs of time travel theory, as well?"

"I… I… know how to program computers!" Alison insisted.

"Do you, now?" the Doctor replied. Crossed his arms. "And you know how to program Fortran 66 standard? Simula? The human race hasn't even gotten to 'C basic', yet, you know. And things like exception handling and object oriented programming are still well in the future."

Alison opened her mouth to reply, but… no words came out.

"You know nothing, Miss Korjensky," the Doctor said. "You're an ignorant child who's been pulled into an affair beyond anything you can handle." He swept his opera cape behind him, turning to the door. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd feel much happier if you and your CIA masters gave me the space I needed to fix this!"

And slammed it behind him.

"Pompous git!" Alison shouted after him.

The Brigadier sighed, the look of a man who'd seen this all before. "I wouldn't antagonize him, Miss Korjensky," he said, grabbing up a report and beginning to write in his account of the situation. "The Doctor may be temperamental, but he does tend to be right."

Alison just kept seething. Unable to calm down. That man might be her lift home, but she wasn't going to have anything more to do with him than she had to.

"Tends to be right?" Alison cried. "Half of what he said was just rubbish. CIA? I'm not an American — why would I have anything to do with the CIA?" She turned on the Brigadier. "And how dare he say I'm not qualified? I was the one investigating this in the first place! I…"

She stopped. As she realized she was shouting at someone who very clearly didn't deserve it. And probably faced far too much of it, already, from the Doctor.

"Sorry," said Alison, sitting down at the desk. Head in her hands. "This… just… isn't how I expected my first day at Torchwood to wind up."

The Brigadier looked up at her. Raising an eyebrow. "Torchwood?"

Alison nodded.

The Brigadier put aside his papers and clasped his hands in front of him. "In that case, Miss Korjensky," he said, "I think we might need to have a little chat about the Doctor."

* * *

"Which, according to our mathematical formula," said Owen, in the Torchwood Hub, pointing to a map, "means the complex moved to… right about… here. Just pop in there and—"

"And they'll be waiting for us!" said Gwen. She spun the map around. "Look. After the next transfer, it'll be here." She pointed. "That's directly under an underground tunnel. We wait for that, we can storm the complex easily."

"By waiting for someone else to be kidnapped and sent back in time, you mean?" said Owen.

Gwen looked up from the map. "They're not being killed. Just transported."

"We hope," Ianto chimed in.

Jack went over to Tosh's computer. Staring at the screen. "Any other information about Alison?"

"A little more," Tosh said. Not missing a beat in her typing. "UNIT seems rather distrustful of her, when she first turns up. Particularly when they find out she's Torchwood."

Jack stiffened. Cringed.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I should have thought of that."

Tosh glanced back at him. "What?"

"Let's just say I… altered Torchwood's mission statement, when I took charge," Jack muttered. Sighed. "Of course, UNIT in the 70's wouldn't know that…"

Everyone in the Hub gave Jack the same apprehensive stare. Demanding answers.

Jack didn't give any.

"Jack," said Gwen. "Torchwood's previous mission statement. Is it something that's going to put Alison in danger?"

Jack turned, heading back to his office. "Doesn't matter. I'm getting her back."

"Jack!" shouted Gwen, trying to follow him.

He slammed the door in her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Sergeant Benton handed Alison a cup of tea, and she accepted it gratefully. Sipping it through fingers that tried their hardest not to tremble.

"You didn't know any of that, did you?" Benton asked. "About Torchwood and the Doctor?"

Alison shook her head.

Benton sat down beside her. "Well. I suppose it isn't something they generally explain on your first day."

"I'm not like that," said Alison. She nestled the tea cup in her hands. "I might think the Doctor's an arrogant prig, but I'm not prepared to shoot him over it." She stared down into her tea cup. "I'm not prepared to shoot anyone over that. Alien or no."

Benton gave Alison a smile. "Not many at Torchwood are like you, Miss."

"At my Torchwood, they are," Alison replied. "For… the most part. I think." She shrugged, took another sip of tea. "I suppose Torchwood changes in the future."

Benton nodded. Then laughed. "Time travel. Funny thing to wrap your head around."

Alison stared down into her tea. "I used to have nightmares about time travel, when I was little," she confessed. "Odd how life turns out, sometimes."

"Nightmares?" asked Benton.

"Yeah — I watched this Simpsons episode," Alison said, "where Homer goes back in time using Professor Frink's time-traveling toaster and steps on a butterfly, and when he returns home, everything's changed, the world's different, and it's raining donuts. Funny episode. Freaked me out, as a kid." She shrugged. "Nightmares for months."

"Sorry," said Benton. "What's this… 'Simpsons'?"

Alison cringed. "Right. Seventies. No Simpsons." She blinked. Realizing. "No internet." She looked up at Benton. "Wow. Where do you lot go to read poorly written _Harry Potter_ slash fic?"

"What's…?" Benton started.

"Never mind," Alison sighed. "Guilty pleasure." She took her iPhone out of her pocket, staring at the signal-less display. Taking it all in. "A world… without Google. Without Youtube. Without Wikipedia!" She shook her head. "Don't know how you can stand it."

Benton nodded. Slowly. Still not having the first idea what she was talking about. "The Brigadier did want me to speak to you, Miss," he said. "About… getting settled."

Alison shot her head up. "Settled?"

"In the 1970's," Benton clarified.

Alison's jaw dropped. "I'm not staying," she insisted. "I mean, sure, I'll stick around to help with the investigation. But I'm still planning to ask the Doctor for a lift home, when it's over."

"I think… you might have to wait a long time for that, Miss," Benton said, softly.

Alison's blood froze. Had she just mucked this one up? Bruised the Doctor's ego by calling him a stuck-up prig? Was she going to have to suck-up to him and make him tea and biscuits and tell him he was brilliant until he took her home?

(Ugh.)

"Look, if he's still upset about what I said," said Alison, "I didn't mean it. Well, actually, I did. But if he'll take me home, then he's the nicest—"

"I mean that that police box of his doesn't work, at the moment," said Benton. "He spends a lot of time trying to make it work, but… well, he's stuck here. On Earth. In this time. And so are you."

Alison's jaw dropped.

As she realized… if she'd fallen into Seo's father's past… guess where Seo's time machine almost certainly _wouldn't_ be able to go? And after Torchwood had nearly ended the world getting Tosh and Jack back from the 1940's…

"No," said Alison, jumping to her feet. She could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate. Her every childhood fear about time travel suddenly flashing before her eyes. "No, I… I can't be stuck. I can't…"

What if she never got back?

What if she was stuck here, forever?

What if…?

She turned, and ran.

* * *

The Doctor looked up at the girl who'd just burst into his top secret lab, suddenly looking panicked. Interesting, that. He'd thought she'd been a bit too calm, before.

Her eyes fell on the TARDIS.

"It has to work!" she insisted. "It just has to!" She raced towards it, yanking on the locked doors, which didn't budge. "Even if it's broken, you can fix it!"

The Doctor put down the gadget he'd been fiddling with. Examining her, carefully. She looked entirely sincere. And truly terrified.

"Oh, dear," he muttered. "They really have left you in the dark, haven't they?"

Typical CIA. Interfering in the lives of humans, scooping them up and shoving them into the past, and then never intending to send them home, again.

"You know about time travel!" Alison insisted, turning on him. "You're the expert! You have to—"

"I can't," the Doctor said. He sighed, as he got up from the table. "I'm sorry. I've been trying to repair the TARDIS for some time, now, but… well… the Time Lords have full control, it seems." Blasted Time Lords. Exiling him for interfering, and then sending problems his way so he could interfere for them! "I'm afraid I'm just as stranded as you are."

Alison stared at him. Her whole body trembling, now, with something approaching real fear.

"My friends," she whispered. "My family. My home! Everyone… everything…"

Then she spun on her heels, and raced out the door.

Oh, dear.

The Doctor raced after her. Didn't know where she was off to, but she didn't seem the sort to just break down into tears. No. Far more likely she was up to something. Probably headed right for…

He caught up with her as she was frantically attempting to hotwire Bessie, despite the fact that she clearly had no idea how to hotwire a car. He leaned over the door of the car, looking in at her.

"Running away won't help, you know," he said.

"You think?" Alison demanded. She shot him a glare. " _You're_ the reason I can't get home. All I have to do is get as far away from you as possible, and…"

"And nothing," the Doctor said. "Listen to me, Alison. The Time Lords aren't coming to rescue you. At the moment, they'll probably be far too busy trying to cover up whatever it is they've done to involve me in this affair."

Typical.

Alison smacked her hand down on the steering wheel. "This isn't about the bloody Time Lords!" she shouted. "My best friend has a time machine. She can pick me up. But not while I'm around you."

"And why would you think that?" the Doctor asked.

Alison wouldn't answer.

"Alison, think this through logically," the Doctor urged her, slipping into his most soothing tone of voice. "You were lured into a dangerous time experiment, and then sent to this time and place, specifically, by someone who had the ability to shield you from a lethal temporal energy field."

Alison froze. Her eyes going wide.

"By someone… who could make the Cardiff Rift send me to London," she whispered.

"You were _sent_ here, Alison," said the Doctor. "Deliberately sent here. For a reason. And I very much doubt that whoever sent you will let you return before you've done it."

Alison peeled her hands off the steering wheel. An utter hopelessness coming over her. "She's not coming," she said. Looked down at her hands. "I'm stranded. Really stranded. In the past. Forever."

"Not entirely," the Doctor said.

Alison glanced up at him. Renewed hope in her eyes.

"You did say the machine that sent you here was built as a DeLorean, yes?" the Doctor asked, scratching his chin.

Alison nodded.

"Then that's our advantage," the Doctor told her. "Whoever's been tampering with these experiments was clearly intending to build a time machine, no matter what he wound up creating, instead. If I work out the equations they used to send you here, I could rediscover the information the Time Lords have blocked from my mind."

Alison slumped in place, sighing.

Right.

Because _that_ was certainly the kind of thing Alison knew.

"I'm so glad you want to know that," Alison said. "Because obviously, before Professor Feldman threw me back through time and tried to kill me, he would have sat me down with a cup of tea and explained all the intricate mathematical theories behind the DeLorean!"

"You did mention that they were using a carrier signal," the Doctor pointed out to her.

Oh.

Apparently, that was important.

"A carrier signal," the Doctor repeated. "A signal conveying information, which resonates through the Vortex. If someone could isolate and deconstruct that…"

"It could be used to derive the equations Feldman used?" Alison guessed.

"Well, only if you're an incredible genius!" the Doctor scoffed. He straightened his green coat. "Which, of course, I happen to be." He grinned at himself, proudly. "Yes. Yes, I'm certain. Splice bits of those equations into the TARDIS, and we might just have our answer."

It was a long-shot.

But Alison was ready to grab at any sort of hope she could find.

The Doctor smiled at her, then offered her a hand out of the car. He didn't seem so much like an arrogant prig, anymore. More sort of… fatherly.

Alison hesitated. "You really think you can get me home?"

"I know I can," the Doctor said. "And I promise I will. Any way possible."

Alison hesitated a little longer. Then took his hand, and let him lead her out of the car.


	5. Chapter 5

Professor Feldman stepped back, watching with interest as their latest test subject was sucked up by the time machine he'd built. As their latest test subject screamed, the bright light encompassing him, the room shaking nearby, and then…

The energy transfer, across the complex.

A shift in the spatial location of the facility. And a temporal shift for his subject.

He turned to his staff. "And the results?"

Dr. Pauline typed at the computer. Looking up records from the past. Then shook her head. "Burned to a crisp," she said. "Like all the others."

Professor Feldman's smile vanished. "What?" he cried. Raced over to the computer. "But that girl from Torchwood survived! Nothing changed this time from last. What could possibly…?"

He was cut off by the bang of doors being kicked in, all around him, the entire Torchwood team racing into the room, guns drawn, eyes all angry and determined.

"Game's up," said Gwen Cooper. "You're all coming with us."

* * *

"I told you," insisted Professor Feldman, in the interrogation room at the Torchwood Hub. "I didn't have help from alien technology. This system is completely human, Miss Cooker."

"Cooper," Gwen corrected.

Jack leaned down so he was at eye level, hands on the table. "You're messing with equations that won't be discovered for centuries," he said. "Equations that completely defy the current theories of physics." He shoved the research down in front of Professor Feldman. "I don't care how smart you are. You didn't come up with this."

Professor Feldman looked the information over, considering. "It didn't work, anyways," he muttered.

"So you _didn't_ come up with it yourself?" Gwen clarified.

"I never claimed I did," said Professor Feldman. He pointed an accusing finger at her. "But I didn't steal the ideas from any aliens. This is a philanthropic mission. To help humanity."

"Which is why you were kidnapping humans," said Gwen, "and sentencing them to be burned alive in your time travel experiments."

"A small sacrifice to help billions upon billions in the future!" Professor Feldman insisted.

Jack looked at him like he was crazy. "What do you mean, the future?"

Professor Feldman sighed. Head in his hands. "They talked to me," he admitted. "Humanity, from the future. They said that in 40 years, mankind would be practically extinct. They needed us to come through time to help them."

Jack stepped back, crossing his arms.

"I'd been working on time travel theory for some time, then," said Professor Feldman. He cracked a small grin. "It had always been a bit of an obsession of mine. Since I watched 'Back to the Future'. I always wanted—"

"And you never thought these 'future humans' might not be human at all?" asked Jack.

"Well, of course I did, Mr. Hurkens!" Professor Feldman huffed. "But if they were, in fact, offering me the secrets to time travel... how could you expect me to give up an opportunity like that?"

Jack gave an annoyed sigh.

"Aliens," Gwen hypothesized. "Pretending to be humanity from the future, using a psychic message to get what they really wanted."

"But they _were_ human!" Professor Feldman insisted. "One of them showed up, just before our first experiment. Seemed frantic. Told us we were going about it all wrong. That many people were going to die. Gave us a new set of equations. And promptly just… disappeared."

Gwen and Jack exchanged a look.

"And you used that new set of equations?" asked Gwen.

"Well... no," Feldman admitted, looking a little confused. "We... combined the equations we had before with the new equations, in a way we thought made more sense." He blinked, a little mystified. "I can't remember why we did that."

Jack sat down opposite Feldman. "Professor Feldman," he said. "Whomever you were talking to — they weren't humans from the future." He pointed down at the equation sets Feldman had been using. "Because these equations aren't for a time machine."

Feldman seemed perplexed. "Then what... are they for?"

* * *

"If I didn't know any better," the Doctor muttered to Alison, analyzing the equations he'd deduced from the carrier signal, "I'd say these chaps who sent you here were just opening the rift and chucking people inside it."

"Wait, really?" asked Alison.

"Oh, yes, certainly," the Doctor said. He tapped the pen against the paper. "If it wasn't for this particular equation, you'd never have traveled anywhere at all. Just have been swallowed up by rift and vortex energies."

Alison peered down at the equation.

But looked like TARDIS translation circuits didn't translate Boffin.

"Odd, that," the Doctor said, staring down at the equations, himself. "The rest of these equations are quite crude, but this one… is really rather clever. Expanding on a completely different dimensional concept of the universe."

Right.

If he said so.

"I don't think your Professor Feldman was responsible for creating any of these equations himself," the Doctor concluded. "He was fed them. By some alien intelligence. Possibly two." He turned to her. "You did mention some odd text appearing on your computer, didn't you?"

* * *

"Clearly a variation on the rift equations," Tosh confirmed. "It almost looks like that DeLorean of his is supposed to just tear open the rift and chuck people inside it." She pointed to one equation. "Except for this equation. It's completely different. And I can't work out what it does."

"Why would a group of aliens want Professor Feldman to throw people into the rift?" Gwen asked.

Ianto gestured at the computer. "Why don't we ask them?"

Gwen stared at him. "What?"

"Well, whoever was talking to us using the computer knew our names," said Ianto. He shrugged. "Feldman clearly didn't."

For a few moments, no one said anything. All just staring at one another.

Realizing… Ianto was right.

Then, in a mad burst of speed, they all sprinted to the computer. Tosh dove for the keyboard, typing furiously, digging into the database for 'Project Savior' using exactly the same hacked entryway she'd created last time — when the computer had been speaking to them.

The screen went blank.

Then, typed on its surface, in small white letters: "You cannot stop us."

"What are you?" said Gwen. "How do you know our names? Why did you want Feldman to throw people into the rift?"

The cursor flickered for a few seconds.

Then the screen went black, again. And new words appeared:

"We must feed."

* * *

"…and that's what the text on the computer said," Alison concluded.

The Doctor mused it all over in his mind. "Yes," he said. Slumping in his seat. "Yes, I see. This is all starting to make sense, now."

"Is it?" asked Alison.

"Of course — 'What we do will happen, has happened, must happen,'" the Doctor repeated. "There's only one sort of creature who talks like that."

"Actors in badly written science fiction movies?" Alison guessed.

"Multi-temporal life forms, Miss Korjensky," the Doctor corrected. "They exist across every second of time, and can manipulate it easy as clicking your fingers. Most have been banned from the universe, of course — one thing my lot actually managed to do right — but looks like this species of multi-temporal life form is trying to use the rift as a bleed-through point, so they can enter this plane of existence."

Alison nodded, slowly.

She didn't know what he was talking about.

But… well…

Best just wait for the bit where he told her, in straightforward English, exactly what to do to stop them.

"Yes," said the Doctor, rubbing his chin. "Throwing those people into the rift would allow these creatures to feed off the potential time those people had. All the what-ifs and never-weres of their lives. Leaving the people a burned husk, and making the creatures that much stronger. More able to penetrate into our reality."

"They're eating people?" Alison cried.

It felt a lot worse, knowing she'd been chucked into a DeLorean designed — not to travel through time — but to allow a group of monsters to eat people.

Forget "Back to the Future". This was sounding a lot more like "Little Shop of Horrors", now.

"According to these equations, yes," the Doctor replied.

"But… you said one of them was different!" Alison said. She pointed at it. "Remember? You said there was one equation that was created by someone with a completely different dimensional… understanding… of…"

Alison stopped.

Remembering…

_You were sent here. Deliberately sent here. For a reason._

And there was one equation, unlike all the others. One equation that was clever. Dimensionally complex. Designed… to send Alison… through both time and space…

"Of course," the Doctor muttered. "An equation that forever denies them the energy they need. And one that…" His whole face lighting up, as he stared at the equations. "Yes! That's it!" He jumped to his feet, raced towards the TARDIS. "That's the answer!"

* * *

"They're feeding?!" cried Gwen. "On all the people Feldman's thrown into the rift?!"

"What is this?" Owen demanded. "Some rift-dwelling monster, able to send psychic messages?"

A pause.

Then, on the computer:

"You can't stop us. No one can stop us. One already tried. And failed."

"The person who showed up and gave Feldman those new equations," Jack realized.

And it became clear to all of them, suddenly. That whoever-it-was had been warning Feldman that many would die — not 40 years in the future, as Feldman had assumed — but as a result of his dangerous experiments.

Whoever-it-was had been trying to fix Feldman's machine so it would be harmless. And stop the monsters.

"This equation," said Jack, pointing to the one Tosh hadn't understood. "It actually sends the subject through time. Thus, depriving you of a vital bit of their energy."

"What should it have done, without that equation?" asked Gwen.

"Burn them to ash and leave no trace," said Jack.

"A temporal tunnel was connected," the computer reported. "Our scheme discovered. The energy we needed was denied to us."

"Leaving you forever short of the energy you'd need to escape," Tosh realized, analyzing the equations. "You can get closer and closer to the energy requirement, but you'll never actually hit it." She shook her head. "That's brilliant."

"But we will get the energy," the monsters told Torchwood. "We already have."

"No you won't!" Jack laughed. "No living thing has the energy reserves you'd need... to..."

Jack stopped. His expression freezing on his face, as he realized the truth.

"We will feed," the monsters typed. "We will manifest."

"What?" Gwen asked Jack. "What's wrong?"

"They redirected where and when the time tunnel would send their victims," said Jack. "On purpose. As a trap."

"You cannot stop us," the monsters typed. "No one can stop us."

Jack felt his whole body go numb. As the entire plan became clear to him.

Exactly who and what they'd need to feed on, in order to gain the energy needed to surpass the limitation. And these monsters had just used a carrier signal to send all the calculations and knowledge necessary to the one version of the Doctor who was desperate enough to take the bait.


	6. Chapter 6

"The answer to what?" said Alison, racing after the Doctor and running inside his ship. "Doctor, I don't get it. If these rift monsters are never going to get the energy they need, due to that equation, then why… was I sent…?"

Alison stopped, a short ways into the TARDIS.

Staring out, unable to move, her mind taking this all in.

"Those rift monsters can go hang!" the Doctor replied, fiddling about with this and that on the central console. "No, this is far more important! I've finally worked out a way to get the Old Girl working, again. Should have thought of this right away! Childishly simple. You just need to..." The Doctor noticed Alison's stare. "Ah. Right. Bigger on the inside. Dimensionally transcendental."

"This is wrong," Alison muttered. "This is all wrong."

She knew. Just knew, deep down inside.

Something was very wrong.

"It's too convenient," Alison decided. Muttered, "A signal you could decrypt, a version of you this eager to leave…"

And Alison had been sent here. Deliberately sent here.

By the one person who could manipulate all of this. The one person who'd want those monsters to be denied the energy they needed. The one person who'd know enough about temporal mechanics to be able to send people back in time without any sort of ship or carrier… signal…

Wait a second.

"Not convenient, just higher mathematics," said the Doctor, as he closed the doors. "Dimensional transcendentalism. An anomaly used—"

"The carrier signal!" shouted Alison. "It's the carrier signal! _That's_ what doesn't make sense. Those rift monsters — they weren't ever intending to send anyone through time. So why would they need a carrier signal to ensure they got there?"

"Something we can debate later," said the Doctor, still rapidly re-connecting his time machine. "Once I return you home and…"

But Alison wasn't listening to him, anymore. Just realized… this was why she was here. In the past. Seo must have worked it all out — tried to stop the monsters by turning their feeding machine into a time machine. But the monsters worked out a way to use it to their advantage. Use Seo to their advantage.

Which meant…

The TARDIS began to wheeze and groan into life, and Alison, terror racing through her, leapt at the console, shouting, "No! We can't leave! That's what they want us to do! Moment we leave, they'll strike!"

Began tearing at wires and devices, ripping as many things as she could out of their casings. Maybe the TARDIS hadn't left, yet. Maybe there was still time to ground the ship!

"Stop that!" The Doctor shouted, racing over as a shower of sparks erupted around her. He grabbed her up by the waist and attempted to pull her away. "What on Earth do you think you're...?!"

"It's a trap!" shouted Alison. "They didn't send that carrier signal to bring people through time! They sent it to give you the equations!"

"My dear girl, you can't possibly...!"

Alison managed to slip out of his grasp, as the TARDIS bucked and jerked, a scraping noise echoing in from the outer shell.

"That's why I'm here!" Alison cried, grabbing another component and starting to tear it from the console. "They're going to kill you! I have to save…!"

As the component gave, the console exploded with a violence that tossed Alison across the room and slammed her against the far wall. Her eyes rolled up in her head, the world spinning, as she drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

The Doctor tried to stumble over to Alison, as the ship bucked and lurched, the sound of a gong ringing out through the console room. Ridiculous girl, tearing out the TARDIS components in mid-flight! And that particular component! What could she possibly be…?

The lights went low, and a maniacal laughter echoed through the ship. The Doctor stopped in his tracks. Turned, and stared, as he spotted a group of glowing yellow specters emerging in the central console.

"Ah," the Doctor muttered. Feeling rather foolish. "A trap. Of course." He glanced over at Alison. "Seems you were right after all."

Amazing how he'd managed to overlook that bit about the carrier signal.

The creatures hissed and laughed, writhing around in the time rotor. "We will be free to feed on all!" they rasped. "All times. All places. We have been freed!"

"By feeding on both me and the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "The two of us, together, would have more than enough of an artron signature to overcome the limitation in those equations."

They grinned.

"Yes, all right, so you got me," said the Doctor, bitterly. "Congratulations. Should have seen it a mile off. Suppose I was just too eager to leave."

Glanced back at Alison.

What had she said?

_This is why I'm here._

The creatures began to strengthen, rippling and multiplying inside the time rotor. The TARDIS gave a scream of pain, as the time rotor shattered, and the creatures began crawling across the central console, advancing greedily on the Doctor.

The Doctor kept his eyes fixed on Alison, as he backed away from the creatures.

The creatures rasped a laugh, gathering around the Doctor. "Nowhere to run, Time Lord," they taunted. "We will feed on the universe. We will feed on _you_."

The Doctor turned his eyes back to the creatures. "Yes? Well why don't you get on with it?!" he snapped. Clapped his hands in irritation. "Chop chop, men! I haven't got all day!"

The hands reached out to grab him... but faded right through him.

The creatures frowned. Tried again. But still, couldn't grab him.

They fumed. Roared in anger.

"What trickery is this?" they demanded.

The Doctor walked over to the unconscious Alison. Picked up the device in his hands. "Dimensional coordinator servo," he observed. "Yes, I thought as much." He looked back at the rift entities. "I'm afraid she ripped out this circuit the moment you entered my ship. Thereby catching you halfway between the interior and exterior dimensions of the TARDIS." He shrugged. "That's dimensional transcendentalism, for you."

The monsters shrieked.

"You are trapped, too," they hissed. "To leave your ship, you must reinstall the device."

"I suppose," the Doctor mused. He grabbed up his sonic screwdriver, buzzed it at the instrument. "But, then again, if I just reversed the polarity of the neutron flow..."

The shapes screamed, writhing as they were propelled backwards into the time rotor, and then sucked back out into the swirling time winds of the Vortex.

"Alison was sent here," the Doctor called after them. "But not by the Time Lords. No. She was sent here by someone else. Sent here to save my life."

Someone with a time machine, whom Alison had seemed to know.

"Revenge!" the monsters shrieked back at the Doctor. Pointing at Alison. "We will have our revenge on her!"

And then vanished.

As the TARDIS landed, once more, in UNIT headquarters. The Doctor looked down at the now burned-out dimensional circuit in his hands. The one he needed to get out of the TARDIS, and get Alison help for her concussion.

"She has an iPhone," he muttered. Then threw the burned-out mechanism over his shoulder, turning back to the unconscious Alison. "Yes, I think that'd do the trick."

* * *

The Torchwood computers flickered. The lights dying down, a roar of wind ripping through the base.

An eerie glow appeared in the center of the room, followed by the ghostly image of a crowd of specters laughing evilly.

The Torchwood team doubled up, hands on their heads.

"I... I can remember them," Tosh gritted. "They have always been here."

"Our overlords," Owen gasped. "Our enslavers."

"Invade the past," Jack realized. "And you change the future." He stepped forwards, spreading his arms open. "So when's it my turn?! When do my memories of the past get changed?!"

The entire Hub shook, like someone was pounding on the walls of reality itself. Trying to tear their way into the universe.

The Hub blinked into and out of existence, Cardiff rippling before Jack in all its alternates — even as a devastated wasteland, inhabited by these rift monsters.

And then...

A scream!

And the old reality snapped back into place. The monsters vanishing. His Torchwood team getting back up, stunned and confused as to what had just happened. The lights going back to normal, wind dying down.

In that wind, Jack thought he heard a word...

_Revenge._

Jack raced over to the Torchwood computer. "What revenge?" he demanded. Grabbing the monitor in angry hands. "Tell me!"

The monitor flickered.

Then revealed a report from UNIT, 1971 — approximately one month after Alison had appeared there.

Jack collapsed in the chair. Staring at the screen, hope draining from him.

"Jack, what...?" Gwen began.

Jack looked up at her. "Their revenge," he said. Shook his head. "It's that… I can't ever get Alison back. No one can."


	7. Chapter 7

A scream echoed through eternity.

Across time and space and the universe.

Not just the rift monsters'. Another scream, just beneath that.

Alison could hear it. Even though she was unconscious. She heard it ringing through her, resonating with such biting misery that Alison felt she needed to race out and help. No, not just that. Something about… that voice… that scream… felt familiar. Almost like…

Alison groaned as she regained consciousness. And found herself looking into the worried, kindly eyes of this gray-haired Doctor.

Alison sat up. Looked around. Back in UNIT, in the 70's. Then... it had worked. Alison had stopped the rift creatures. She'd saved the Doctor! She'd...

She'd torn apart her only means of getting home.

"Are you quite all right?" The Doctor asked her.

Alison tried to jump to her feet. She had to get away! If she could just get far enough away from the Doctor, Seo wouldn't be crossing his time stream, anymore. She could get a lift home! She could...

The world swam around Alison, and she stumbled. "Ow," she croaked, rubbing her head.

"Still trying to run away, I see," the Doctor observed. "A girl after my own hearts."

"I... I have to..." Alison said.

Then she stopped. As the rest of it came back to her. As Alison remembered who had sent her back to the 70's, why, and what it meant.

And realized… whose scream she'd been hearing, in the darkness.

She slumped back down into the medical bed.

"But I can't get back," Alison muttered. She looked out the window, troubled. "She's in trouble, Doctor. She's screaming — I could hear her. But I can't get to her. I can't help her."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "The person who sent you here."

Alison nodded.

"And who would that be, exactly?" the Doctor asked.

Alison hesitated. Unsure what she could even say.

"Your best friend," said the Doctor, "who travels through time. But isn't a Time Lord. Knows dimensional and temporally complex equations no human will work out for centuries. Can manipulate a space-time rift easily. And… for some reason… wants to save my life."

"She's…" Alison faltered. Struggling for words. "…sort of… a guardian angel."

It was the best way to put it, really.

The Doctor put a hand over her own. Looked deep into Alison's eyes.

"We will find her, Alison," the Doctor promised. "If your friend is in trouble, we'll find her and help her." He paused. "As soon as I've worked out a way to repair all the damage you've caused my ship. And can override the Time Lords' limitations."

Alison's cheeks turned red. "I... I'm sorry. About tearing up your space ship. I just..."

"Saved my life and the universe," the Doctor said. "I can't fault you for that."

Alison wasn't sure what to say.

"Of course, until the TARDIS functions, again," the Doctor said, "I'm afraid you're rather stuck here, Miss Korjensky."

Stuck in the 1970's. Alone. With no friends or family. A computer programmer surrounded by computers she didn't know how to program.

"But... what do I do?" Alison whispered.

"Well, you could always work as my personal assistant," the Doctor offered.

Alison shot him a pointed stare. "Thought you said I was an ignorant child who wasn't useful for anything."

"Suppose we can't all be perfect," the Doctor replied, putting his hands into his pockets. "So what do you say?"

Alison forced all her fears behind her. If this was what it'd take to help Seo…

"All right," she decided. "I'll do it. Until we can work out a way to save… my friend… I'll be your assistant." She pointed at the Doctor. "But I won't tolerate your treating me like an ignorant child. You hear? I may not be a scientist, but I'm still clever." She reached into her pocket. "After all. Not _everyone_ can reprogram their iPhone to…"

She stopped. As she realized… her iPhone wasn't in her pocket, anymore.

And the Doctor was looking incredibly guilty.

"What did you do to my iPhone?!" Alison shouted.

* * *

In 2008, Cardiff, the Torchwood team gathered round and stared at the computer. Seeing the details of the next month of Alison's life printed before them.

"She becomes the assistant to UNIT's scientific advisor," said Gwen. "Helps him defeat all sorts of alien threats. And then she…"

Gwen stopped reading aloud, as she found the paragraph that Jack had been staring at. The paragraph that all of the rest of them were now staring at.

Owen swore, loudly.

The date was one month from when Alison had first arrived.

"At 11:32 am, today, Miss Alison Korjensky, 18 years old, died… while pursuing a Nimopod alien," Gwen read, in a much softer voice. "A memorial service will be held in her honor."

For a few long moments, no one said anything.

"She died in the past," Gwen breathed. "So we can't ever get her back. That's… their revenge."

Tosh felt her hands shaking. "We killed her," she whispered. "On her first day."

"Like I said," Owen agreed. "That's a record. Even for us."

Jack looked like the world had shattered around him, and he couldn't grab on.

"Hold on… there's more," Ianto said, grabbing up the mouse and scrolling down to reveal the last line on the page. Written in, after the fact, like an afterthought.

One spark of hope.

_Despite all evidence to the contrary, the UNIT scientific advisor refuses to believe Miss Korjensky is dead. And won't stop looking for her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sounds like the Doctor noticed something the others missed...
> 
> Stay tuned for the next story!


End file.
